


shapes

by waveydnp



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Introspection, M/M, New Years, a hint of consensual somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 05:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17258240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveydnp/pseuds/waveydnp
Summary: This moment is something he’s worked hard for, something he’s cried and bled and fought for, so he’s going to enjoy it before facing the reality of the work it takes to make the kinds of changes they’ve vowed to make.





	shapes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dizzy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/gifts).



The first sensation he has upon waking up to a brand new number on the calendar is cold. He’s cold. His hand roots around aimlessly, eyes still firmly shut and every cell in his body unwillingly to let himself wake up enough that he’ll have trouble going back to sleep after he finds what he’s looking for.

As soon as his fingers brush soft material he yanks at it, pulling it closer to his body. There’s a soft, muffled grunting as Phil is forced to relinquish some of the blanket he’d stolen over the course of the night - or more accurately the morning, as they’d stayed up even later than usual fussing over the lovely new burn mark in their sofa.

Phil’s fault of course, as most of the dings in the walls and scuffs on the floors are and always have been since the day they started living together. So maybe this year won’t be entirely made of change. Some things never change.

This doesn’t change either, the way Dan paints himself against the back of Phil’s body and sighs at the warmth he finds in the pressing of their bare skin together. He slides his arm around Phil’s waist and hitches his leg over Phil’s hip. He wants to be as close as possible, both for the warmth and just for the pure indulgence of smothering his affections all over this stupid wonderful man he loves so much.

Also, admittedly, he wants to annoy Phil just a little bit. His sleepy whines of protest at being glomped onto are just so bloody adorable.

“M’sleeping, ge’ off.”

“I was sleeping too until you stole all the fucking blankets,” Dan mumbles into the soft skin of Phil’s neck.

“Wasn’t me.”

“Uh huh,” Dan hums. “Whatever you say bub.”

“Go back to sleep,” Phil grumbles, but he lays his arm on top of Dan’s and laces their fingers together.

“That’s what I’m trying to do if you’d just shut up already.” He kisses the spot behind Phil’s ear and then settles his head back down on the pillow, sleep creeping back in around the edges so quickly he only half hears Phil’s muttered response.

The first sensation he feels when he wakes up to the first daylight of the new year is warm. He’s nice and warm tucked up against Phil’s back and wrapped up in the heather grey blanket they’d spent ages arguing over when they first moved to this flat. Dan still counts it a victory that he’d won out over Phil’s notorious bullheadedness to get exactly what he wanted in the bedware department. No bright colours in this room.

Phil is still asleep. The man sleeps like the bloody dead. He’s even snoring a little which Dan sometimes finds annoying, but he’s determined not to start out his twenty nineteen with irritation. He rolls over for a moment, just enough to confirm that the clock reads a time reasonably late enough for him to wake Phil up without guilt.

It’s not even morning anymore. No guilt then. Definitely no guilt as he strokes his hand up Phil’s chest slowly, fingers brushing through the hair there. He traces over a nipple and up to follow the line of a collarbone and dip into the hollow between them.

Phil stirs, but only enough to close his mouth and cease the snoring. He’s still asleep, still unaware of Dan’s plan to wake him up in the nicest way possible, the way Phil often does for Dan when he’s the one to greet the day first.

He takes his time with it. He enjoys this part, the touches that are technically chaste but inherently intent on leading to more. He likes feeling the shape of Phil’s body beneath his fingertips, likes feeling physical proof of the time they’ve spent together in the way Phil’s body has changed over these years. It’s a little softer now, a little more give to it. It’s gone through ups and downs and Dan’s loved the feel of it through all the changes because all those changes have been ones they’ve weathered together. He loves Phil at every shape just as Phil has loved Dan at every shape.

That means so much. Dan has had a lot of shapes over the years, some that were a lot harder to love than any of Phil’s. Shapes that made him cold and distant, shapes that went from fire to ice without warning and every shape in between. Shapes that left Phil alone in their flat holding Dan’s phone and wondering when - or if - he’d come back home.

Dan likes his shape now. Or at least, he’s working on it. He’s working on shaping himself into something he really loves, and that’s what’s on his mind now, what had been on his mind when the clock struck twelve and his mouth pressed against Phil’s - the promise of a fresh start to make himself and his life into a shape he can be well and truly proud of. A shape that makes him happy.

And so far so good. Waking up next to a peacefully sleeping Phil and sliding his hand down into his boxers to feel another kind of softness definitely makes him happy. It’s one of the things that makes him happiest, along with pizza and the sound of his and Phil’s laughter folded together loud and unrestrained in the safety of this little home they’ve built. Between last night and this morning he’s gotten all three, and that’s a shape he’s determined as hell to enjoy all year.

Maybe soon in a house that looks more like what they’ve been dreaming of, but that’s not as important. Having goals is good. Having something even better to look forward to, to strive for - that’s the kind of thing that keeps him excited.

Phil sighs. Somewhere in between Dan wrapping his hand around Phil’s softness and getting lost in his own head Phil must have woken up, because now he’s sighing and reaching a hand back to cup the back of Dan’s neck and push his fingers up into Dan’s hair.

He’s not that soft anymore. Or, at least not in all the ways. Dan ducks his head into the space between Phil’s neck and shoulder and plants a kiss, wet and lingering. Phil shifts his hips a little to give Dan a better angle and makes a tiny little moaning sound in the back of his throat when Dan starts to stroke properly. Still slow, still more exploratory than anything but with enough of a grip and enough promise of rhythm that Phil can’t help but articulate his appreciation.

Neither of them say a word, but after a while Phil turns around. Dan doesn’t have as much control like this but it’s worth it for both of them for the way Phil kisses him, open mouthed and deep, morning breath be damned. Dan’s tongue slips into Phil’s mouth from time to time to taste the inside Phil’s lip and Phil’s teeth can’t seem to help themselves from grazing against Dan’s chapped skin every so often. Phil’s fingers are buried in Dan’s curls, his nails scratching against Dan’s scalp every time he makes a particularly satisfying twist of his wrist.

Phil’s orgasm comes on gently, no more warning than the kissing coming to a stop as Dan feels warmth and wet on his arm and seeping between his fingers. Phil buries his face in Dan’s neck afterwards and lets Dan stroke his back until he’s gathered himself enough to push Dan onto his back and slip under the covers. He shimmies down Dan’s prone body and pulls his pants down without pretense to bury Dan in the sweet relief of his mouth.

Now it’s Dan’s turn to pet Phil’s hair and bask in the wordless pleasure of Phil’s attention. His mind doesn’t wander like this, only so far as to the be endlessly grateful that this is the shape of his life. Whatever regrets he has, whatever parts he would go back and change if he could, whatever aspects of himself he’s still striving to improve, he can never lose himself in entirely because this one thing he wouldn’t change for anything in the world. He’s lucky and he knows it, even on the days he’d rather not have to face anything else.

Dan watches the shape of Phil moving under the covers and lets the moans and praises fall from his lips liberally. It takes a long time to get to the point where his toes are curling and the pit of his stomach is tight because Phil has taken his time and kept the bobs slow, but that just makes it all the more delicious when he finally spills over into Phil’s mouth.

Phil kisses Dan’s hip bone when it’s over before crawling up and snuggling in against Dan’s chest.

“Morning,” Dan whispers.

Phil’s response is nothing more than a happy little grunt.

The day awaits, and with it conversations that need to be had. Tough conversations, plans for the future, some of which are bigger and scarier than any they may have ever faced before. Changes that need to be faced head on despite the lack of any certainty that they’ll ultimately be the right ones. It’ll be a tough day. Good, but hard.

Dan’s excited, but he’s not _quite_ ready for all that. This moment is something he’s worked hard for, something he’s cried and bled and fought for, so he’s going to enjoy it before facing the reality of the work it takes to make the kinds of changes they’ve vowed to make. For now he’ll allow himself a warm, slightly sticky post coital new year’s day snuggle with the shape of his future.


End file.
